


The Dream Bean Team

by raidiation



Series: the green bean (cursed coffeeshop au) [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, coffee shop AU, no powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-21 16:55:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18706459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raidiation/pseuds/raidiation
Summary: Steve needed a place to work, and the coffee shop seemed like a good enough choice. Now? He’s not so sure.





	The Dream Bean Team

**Author's Note:**

> what’s up, dudes?
> 
> so. here’s the deal. i wrote this all in one night in some fever-dream-like state a month or so ago and i figured that, post-endgame, y’all would need some cheering up. it’s my first ever fan fiction (if this shitpost of an au even counts as that) and honestly? 
> 
> i didn’t actually have a point to make there. 
> 
> there’ll be sequels to this coming later, so if you enjoyed this, keep an eye out, i guess. enjoy!

Steve thought that his art major would get him somewhere after college. Steve was a fool.

Instead of the National Gallery or whatever funky art museums there are, he found himself in a coffee shop with an absolutely awful punny name—probably something to do with beans—focusing his artistic skill on latte art.

One thing that he found funny was all the hipsters who ordered black coffee; especially the ones who scoffed at those who held his coffee shop's rendition of a frappucino. He'd tried both drinks in his time working for that place (you know, the one with the name that has something to do with beans) and he found the frappucino far more enjoyable. Sure, he had a sweet tooth, but he sincerely doubted that people who got the bitter coffee for no other reason than to not be basic actually enjoyed the drink. He felt kind of bad for them. Frappucinos were really good.

 

Unfortunately, the weird fucking bean name wasn't the only wack-ass part of Steve's job. 

First off, there was Tony, who worked the cash register and took orders most of the time. He was great with the tech, installed  touch-screen interfaces for the store, and had this magic touch that always got the milk frother working again, but Steve didn't think he'd ever seen the guy actually make a coffee. Plus, he thought he'd heard that Tony's dad was super rich, so he didn't really know what was up with the dude working at this aggressively mediocre coffee shop.

 

Natasha was the other barista. She was gorgeous, honestly, and Steve appreciated her work ethic and her neat finished products. She might have held a knife to the throat of a dude who tried to hit on her. She might have done that several times. She didn't get any blood on the croissants, so Steve figured it was none of his business.

Bruce, the manager, was just a nervous wreck. He had, like, 7 PHDs, but Steve had never seen a man more inept at simple tasks before Bruce. He didn't think that the poor guy was actually bad at making coffee. Steve's theory was that he was just really nervous all the time, and that it fucked up his technique. He was better at management, anyway, even if nobody listened to a word he said except for Steve. 

Steve would honestly have done as Bruce asked him either way, just considering how bad he felt for the guy most of the time. However, he had this one vivid memory of an inhuman yell from the back room followed by the screeching sound of machinery hitting a wall, and Bruce had been the only one working with him at the time. So he figured he might as well stay on the dude's good side.

Then there was Clint. Steve wasn't really sure what Clint did. The only thing he'd ever seen the guy do was sit cross-legged on the counter and drink coffee, and Steve knew for a fact that he didn't pay for any of it. The first time he'd seen Clint, the dude had told him, "The best part of working here is the free coffee."

 

Bruce had called, from the back room, as if by telepathy, "The coffee isn't free, Clint. You've gotta pay for that."

Clint had winked at Steve before pouring the remains of his cup (that day, the only thing in the cup had been hazelnut syrup and a shot of espresso, which both amazed and somewhat scared Steve) down his throat in one swift motion, like a baby bird ingesting his mother's pre-eaten meal.

They'd had a similar conversation every time that Steve saw his (coworker? he wasn't even sure that Clint worked there sometimes). Steve usually walked away feeling a little more sorry for Bruce and a little more scared for the future of humanity and the finances of the coffee shop. Clint did take the time to compliment him on his attempts at latte art, however, which Steve appreciated.

The customers weren't any less wack. Besides the kid who came in one time looking frazzled, saying he'd lost his backpack and asking for an ice water (he'd left with a frappucino in the biggest size they offered and 20 bucks from Tony), there were a few regulars that Steve found eccentric, to say the least.

 

Most prominently, there was the college kid. He was blonde, and frankly huge, and nobody who worked at the Green Bean (yes, the dumb bean name of the coffee shop) knew what college he went to. Steve had asked about his major, once, after bringing him his order of a vanilla frappucino with extra whipped cream and cream instead of coffee. The student had looked at him with blue eyes that looked too saturated to be human, and said, "The world is a dark place. I must be ready." With that, he chugged his drink and shouted, "Another!" Tony brought him five shots of espresso. He drank it all in one gulp, and went back to typing. His hands looked far too big for his laptop.

And honestly, the guy was swole. Swoler, even, than Steve, who worked out whenever he wasn't working or drawing and constantly got comments about it from Tony. He was huge. An absolute fucking monster. Bruce perpetually seemed kind of scared of him. Steve would have been scared, too, except that the guy never acted remotely threatening.

 

Steve never caught the guy's name (he said "Lord of Thunder" whenever he ordered something), but he saw the word 'Thor' in the top right hand side of a google doc the guy was working on, so he just kind of assumed. The title of the paper had been "Ways to prove that someone Isn't Actually Dead," which worried Steve. Just a little bit.

Weirder yet was Thor's... cousin? Brother? Casual acquaintance? Whoever he was, he wore so much black and green that he looked distinctly out of place next to Thor, who was partial to primary colors. If Steve had to guess, he would've labeled the guy as a drama student. He was always carrying some Shakespearean drama in his hand, and the only words that Steve ever heard him speak was when he looked Tony dead in the eyes and said, "Villain, I have done thy mother," in a perfect British accent. He didn't really seem to enjoy Thor's company all that much, but he came to the shop time after time. 

 

Steve thought the guy's name was Loki. At least, it seemed like a name, from the way that Thor would guffaw and exclaim the word in his accent that Steve thought was Australian but couldn't really be sure about.

Steve had seen people talk about their quirky jobs before, about how they loved them and how the quirks gave the place personality. And honestly? Steve would have quit that wack-ass coffee shop in a heartbeat if it wasn't the only thing keeping his dorito-looking art-major ass afloat.

**Author's Note:**

> there is now a part two to this—a couple quick chapters with actual character interactions. it’s called snow day, so why not go check it out?


End file.
